


Slick on a Plane- Heat at 40,000 feet

by HotSauce418



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M, Omega Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:10:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotSauce418/pseuds/HotSauce418
Summary: Hannibal is flying home when the flight is almost landed due to a distressed omega.





	Slick on a Plane- Heat at 40,000 feet

  


Hannibal considered the conference a success. He had ran into a few colleagues, and even engaged in a lengthy debate with an interesting young alpha, Doctor Babcock. He was intelligent, but pompous and proud, entirely enjoying his perceived success. Hannibal had decided they should have dinner were he to find himself back in California or if ever the good doctor found his way to Baltimore.

There had been a change to Hannibal’s flight due to a storm in the east, and his flight landed at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. The layover was brief, and he was soon boarded to first class for his connecting flight.

Hannibal took a glass of champagne from the attendant, a beta that batted her green eyes at him. She was very attentive, as all Betas were, making them important in the service industry as not all alphas were easily managed.

Hannibal, however, was not that type of alpha. He was a thoroughbred of sorts, and prided himself on his complete composure. Ultimately, Hannibal gave her a pleasant smile, but dismissed her, choosing to rest his eyes for the duration of the short flight, folding his hands in his lap.

****

He was woken by the same attendant as she gently whispered to the people in first class. There was only Hannibal, an elderly couple and another alpha. 

"I'm sorry to inform you that we may need to make a landing,” she told them. “We have a passenger experiencing some distress."

The couple whispered to themselves and the other alpha groaned. Hannibal caught the attention of the flight attendant. "Could I be of any assistance? I'm a doctor."

She explained that a male omega in coach was in heat, and was currently being quite belligerent.

"He said he didn't know he was going into heat. It was very careless," she said, nodding in concern.

"Please, lead the way. If it can help me avoid another stop, I would be glad to assist."

Hannibal followed behind the scentless beta, but once through the curtains that separated first and second class, he stopped short. 

She turned to look at him, asking “Are you alright, Doctor?” 

The sticky sweet smell of omega filled his nose. Hannibal was more surprised than she was at his reaction. Standing taller, he walked toward her his expression calm. The passengers stared at the imposing figure he created. He only followed her as a courtesy, though; he could have easily picked out the omega.

The scent grew stronger as he approached, and Hannibal could see the omega’s head, his hair a mess of damp, dark brown curls. When they reached him, he turned to address the attendant, giving Hannibal a view of his lovely delicate profile.

It seemed at odds with the angry voice which broke the spell.

"God, you again? I've already asked you to please leave me alone. I'll try not to be a disturbance--"

"Sir,” she began, “you are already causing a disturbance."

The omega snorted, but the sound cut short. He slowly looked up at Hannibal where he stood behind the beta. To Hannibal, the entire situation took on a very dream-like quality, especially with the way those teary blue eyes stared at him. There was a slight flair of his nostrils, and Hannibal found himself reciprocating. Their eyes even tracked each other, moving in sync.

Something long forgotten crept it's way to the forefront of Hannibal's brain. The way the omega’s eyes widened, Hannibal wondered if he could see the very thought that clawed it's way through his mind.

Mate. But not just mate. _True_ mate.

Hannibal couldn’t help the smile that twitched at his lips at the absurdity. It sounded like a fairytale his parents would have told him. He had never believed in such tales, not even as a child.

The omega wiped at his sweaty brow and rolled his eyes. "Great. You brought an alpha. Thanks for making this as embarrassing as it could possibly be."

"Mr. Graham,” the attendant started, her voice still kind but growing irritated. "You are the one that came onto a public flight so near heat--"

"Mr Graham, is it?" Hannibal asked, interrupting the flight attendant, something he would never do otherwise. He found himself unreasonably bothered by the way she was treating the omega. "Why don't you move up to first class with me?"

She straightened and stared at Hannibal as if he had suddenly gone mad; he found himself quickly losing his patience with her.“He doesn’t have a ticket for first class.”

“Then I shall cover the cost. If you are going to insist on telling him that this is his fault, then I would appreciate your assistance in finding a solution.” Hannibal smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes.

Mr. Graham surprised Hannibal by rolling his eyes again. He pushed his glasses up his nose, the sweat having caused them to slip. “Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I’m sitting right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You cannot stay here!” The attendant became flustered at his refusal of Hannibal’s more than generous request. 

“If I may?” Hannibal asked the attendant. “Perhaps I could speak with him alone for a moment.” 

When she stepped back, he moved closer to Mr. Graham. Hannibal felt like he was floating, drugged by the heady sweet scent of an omega in heat, even if said omega was an angry, sweaty man who wore an old flannel shirt and worn trousers. He found himself lost in those blue eyes that stared up at him.

“Well? Did you have something to say?” Mr. Graham snapped.

Hannibal smiled as he knelt to speak with the angry man. “Do you have any suppressants that you can take until the flight is over?”

“God, does everyone ask the same questions? No, okay?” He tried to push his glasses up further.

“If I were to find some--“ Hannibal tried gently.

“I’m allergic,” Mr. Graham explained. “My blood type is O negative. Anything else in my medical history you insist on knowing?” He acted cross, but Mr. Graham drummed his fingers on his leg nervously.

“I would like you to consider taking me up on my offer. As an alpha my scent will help keep you calm until we arrive. There are less people in first class. You will be more comfortable.” Hannibal watched his eyes flick to the other passengers around him as he considered. “You would be doing me a personal favor, I am beyond ready to make it home. As you are, I am sure.”

“Fine, but I’m paying the cost difference in the ticket.” Will stood, stepping around Hannibal carefully as he took his bag from the overhead bin.

“Could I carry that for you?” 

“No, and stop with that alpha crap!” Will gave him a fixed stare before he looked away, frowning. Hannibal must have watched him a moment too long. “Well? Are you going to lead the way?”

Hannibal couldn’t stop his smile as he made his way back to first class with the omega in tow.

***

“Would you prefer to sit beside the window or--“

Mr. Graham pushed his bag into the overhead bin and dropped into the seat by the window before he could finish asking. Hannibal simply took his seat beside him. The first class passengers gave them no attention, for which he was grateful.

“I should have introduced myself; please, forgive me.” Hannibal extended his hand. “My name is Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”

Mr. Graham stared at the offered hand, glancing from the alpha’s face back to it. He licked his lips nervously.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” Hannibal found himself actually upset by the way Mr. Graham was acting, and felt the need to comfort and reassure him.

“I’m not afraid,” he answered with a small sigh. Finally, he shook his hand. “Will Graham.”

“Is that short for William?”

“It’s short for Will Graham.”

“Very well.”

Will pulled his hand away too soon; the heat it had given off had been comforting. At least Hannibal knew more than he had a moment ago. _Will Graham._ He wanted to say the name out loud just to see how it felt, to hear it fully from his own voice. Hannibal worried it might become a growl at the way Will ignored him. More so with that sweet smell that filled his nose and slowly began heating his belly.

Hannibal cleared his throat. “What do you do, Will?”

“Get heats on planes, apparently,” he huffed sarcastically. Will pushed the glasses up his nose yet again, stealing a glance at Hannibal. Whatever he saw made his smile fade. “I’m a teacher.”

“A noble profession.”

“Yeah, for an _omega_. I teach at Quantico since I’m too _delicate_ for the field.”

Hannibal could only see his profile, but the sneer was obvious. “Delicate is not the word I would use to describe you.”

Will laughed at that, so hard he had to take his glasses off completely to wipe his eyes. “Oh, this I have to hear. What would you call me, Doctor?”

“The mongoose I’d want under the house when the snake slithers by.” Hannibal smiled.

“Okay?” Will gave him a confused look and changed the subject. “I did get to work in the field for a few days.”

“Did you?” Hannibal asked, honestly impressed. “How did it go?”

Will put his glasses back on and gave a mockery of a happy smile. “Well, how do you think it went, Doctor? I haven’t had a heat in two years.” The omega lost the smile, his eyes going big. “I got sick to my stomach in front of my boss, and now this.” He waved his hand around, before turning back to the window to collect himself.

Hannibal took a moment to turn the air on above them. Will smelled heavenly--he wanted to _bathe_ in it. Hannibal seemed to be unravelling at a faster rate than Will. The air helped, pushing some of the scent away. Still, he wanted to chase it with his tongue, to taste the very source. Hannibal tugged at his tie.

“What do you teach in your class?” Maybe he could distract himself by trying to learn more about Will.

“How to catch bad people.” Will’s mouth twisted after he said it, as if he were reconsidering the words.

“That sounds challenging, and stress can induce a heat.” Hannibal smiled at Will, but he continued to look sullen. “You know, you were most likely sick because you were going into heat, not because you were unable to do the job.”

Will shook his head, a bead of sweat dripping from his temple and sliding slowly down the side of his face. “I gave you the impression that I needed reassurance? How very omegan of me.” He laughed as he put his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Wow, I’m--I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, please.” Hannibal struggled to keep smiling, nearly grinding his teeth to not follow the bead of sweat that had him hypnotized. “I was also out of town on business. I can guarantee it wasn’t nearly as entertaining.”

“It depends. What kind of doctor are you?”

“Psychiatry.”

Will shook his head again. “Oh, great. I never talk this much.” He blushed, and it ran over his nose and down his neck. “Of course you’re a psychiatrist.” 

He settled back into his chair, offering no further information. Within minutes, he was asleep, leaving Hannibal to look on. When Hannibal checked his watch, the flight had only an hour or so left. He felt _disappointed_ , unreasonably so, but could do little more than continue to watch over Will as he slept.

Will was restless, tossing and turning in his chair. He folded his legs into the seat, but his body kept finding its way closer to the middle. They were separated by merely an armrest, which took quick work to fold back into the seat. Hannibal pulled out a book, occasionally glancing over at Will.

His book trembled when Will snuggled up against him. Will sighed, sounding content. He was running so hot that it soaked through the arm of Hannibal’s coat, warming him. Hannibal slipped his book away as Will inched even closer, their thighs touching. He smelled stronger, his bangs were wet, and his face was flushed. Hannibal glanced around, making sure they hadn’t gained the attention of the other passengers. When he turned back to Will, he was awake. Will’s eyes were glassy, but not unreasonably so, and he swallowed hard.

“Do you need me to ask for something to drink?” Hannibal kept his voice as even as he could.

Will shook his head. He scooted a bit closer, his leg nearly over the top of Hannibal’s thigh now. Fingers found their way to Hannibal’s jacket, and Will tugged at the fabric with a whimper. “Are you hurting?” Hannibal’s voice came out rough this time, despite how he tried.

Will shook his head again, his fingers now in the pocket of Hannibal’s jacket, and made another soft sound.

“I know you need me but we have to wait a little bit longer. Can you do that, Will?” Hannibal wasn’t even sure that _he_ could wait, but he certainly wasn’t going to bond with his mate in an airplane bathroom. He didn’t know when he’d decided that he would claim him; maybe it was the moment he stepped out of first class. _Will Graham_. It didn’t matter; regardless of when, Hannibal had decided.

Will put both his legs over Hannibal’s thigh, so close now he was nearly in Hannibal’s lap. He pulled uselessly at Hannibal’s jacket, sliding his hands underneath to smoothe them over his shirt. Will put his face in the crook of Hannibal’s neck, and Hannibal stilled at his warm breath, Will’s stubbled cheek hot and scratchy against his skin. His scent was everywhere now, clinging to Hannibal. Will scented him, rubbing against his glands with that warm cheek, and Hannibal couldn’t have stopped him now even if he wanted to.

Just as quickly, Will moved back, settling properly in his seat and putting his feet flat on the floor. Scenting Hannibal seemed to have returned some of his senses, and Will gave him a sheepish grin. It was one of the first few genuine smiles Will had given him, and Hannibal easily returned it.

Will stared at him for a long time before he spoke. “You are my true mate, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Hannibal had a lump in his throat simply by hearing Will confirm it. “When did you know?”

“The whole time.” Will cleared his throat, “I felt bad for you, so I tried to ignore it.”

“Bad for me?” Hannibal reached out and took his hand. It was hot in his own, and Will gave a soft squeeze to it.

“I’m not very social.” He batted his blue eyes at Hannibal. “I’m actually kind of rude, and weird. You seemed like a nice accomplished alpha and…” Will trailed off as the blush deepened across his face, the heat trying to pull him under once more.

“I am in fact very social, and accomplished.” Hannibal gave the omega a smug look that made him laugh. “I despise rudeness as a general rule, but it isn’t bothersome coming from you.”

“Well, I guess that’s good,” Will answered, looking tired as he gently squeezed Hannibal’s hand again.

“Let me also assure you that I, too, am quite weird.” Hannibal gave him another toothy grin and leaned over to brush Will’s sweaty hair from his forehead.

The intercom sounded, alerting them that the plane would be landing soon. They buckled up, stealing glances at each other. When they landed and first class was allowed to make their way off, Will stopped Hannibal with a hand to his forearm.

“So, how do you feel about dogs?”

  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for the beta [shiphitsthefan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiphitsthefan/pseuds/shiphitsthefan)


End file.
